


Missing You

by Sunhealer24



Series: The Bad Series [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: And I Was Tired And Rushing When I Wrote It, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bad Parenting, Bad TJ, Because I Can't Just Leave This Alone, Besides me, Blowjobs, Come Swallowing, Current Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Current Drug Use, Dark Past, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, I Have An Awful Habit of Beating Dead Horses, I Said I Wouldn't Write Anymore, I Should Stop Using Tags As My Notes, I Shouldn't Be Allowed To Come Up With Ideas Anymore, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I fixed it, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Sorry, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one still holding onto this series, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Last Chapter Has Non-Canon Typical Violence, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Not A Happy Ending, Not a Love Story, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Poor Sel, Possesive Assholes, Rape/Non-con Elements, Semi-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Sexual Abuse, Still Not A Consensual Relationship, Still Not A Happy Story, This Is Why I'm Not Allowed To Have A Pen And Paper, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?, Why are you still reading the tags?, and I don't know why, because, but here we are, not that anyone cares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 19:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20569625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunhealer24/pseuds/Sunhealer24
Summary: Long, long time ago, I had a concept of love.It was a childish fantasy, nothing more.Now Vy's dead, and while TJ's gone, a liability that I forgot to plan for is on his way.





	1. Chapter 1

There was a time, once, a long, long time ago, when I believed in love. That image started to crumble away when I was six and I first saw my dad hit my mom. I had seen the bruises before, but my childish tangle of thoughts hadn't been able to connect the dots between dad actually being home and my mom's mysterious collection of colors underneath her skin.

He hit me for the first time when I was eight. It stung a little, but the betrayal hurt more than the slap. I looked at my mom, broken. She gave me no comfort. There was none to be given.

When I was ten, he didn't come home. He was off with whores and his drugs. He spent all the money in my mom's bank account on crack, booze, ecstasy, and the women he enjoyed it with.

When I was twelve, my mom quit her three jobs and started at the club. Younger than she should have been, she was a sensation. She was no less tired, but she had a bank account not in dad's name. That made me happy.

When I was fourteen, my father came back, bringing with him misery, brokenness, and drugs. Mom tried to make things work, for me, for two years. It failed horribly. 

I'll never forget my sixteenth birthday, for reasons no child should. My brother was conceived on my sixteenth birthday. My father is a horrible person. My mother kicked him out of the house a week later. He comes back every three months, drunk and doped up. She kicks him out again after a week. She's too generous.

When I was eighteen, I had fading scars on my arms and a will to live. I graduated high school. Right after, my father came home. He said he was going to 'make sure I was a woman'. I don't know what mom did. . . but he didn't come back for a year. My brother was in his cradle, in the bedroom where they were.

He still has a scar on his stomach.

  
  


When I was twenty, I rushed home from college for a  _ family emergency.  _ I never went back. Mom asked me to stay, and after looking at her, and my brother, in the end, it didn't take too much convincing. 

  
  


Twenty three. I was twenty three now. Looking back on my life, it hadn't been easy to get to this point. And 'this point' wasn't very pleasant anyway. 

I sighed, walking into my room and setting my keys down on my dresser, right next to a new vase of roses. 

Dammit. 

  
  


Every day there was a new vase of roses on my dresser. No matter how often I threw them out, smashed the vase they were in, there was always a new vase of them the next day, bright and cheerful. The old glass pieces tossed out of my window were always cleaned up nicely, with no evidence they'd ever been there.

There was a new note today. Holding it between my thumb and forefinger, I read the delicate, handwritten script.  _ "My dearest Sel,"  _ It began. 

_ "Even though we are apart, I think of you every day. I miss your soft lips and silky hair. It's torture to be away from you. When I get home from England, we shall meet again. I am missing you dearly, Sel. _

_ -TJ" _

A nasty taste was developing in the back of my mouth. He always gave new meaning to the phrase 'gone, but never forgotten'. It seemed like a simple, thoughtful, note from one lover to another, if a stranger were to see it, but I could read between the lines.

  
  


Vy had been reported missing a few days after TJ had killed her. I had been questioned by police, but I didn't tell them the truth. Who would believe me anyway? 

They found her body a few days later, dumped on her front stoop. I was sick to my stomach when I saw her, dismembered, on her own concrete. I went to the funeral, a closed casket one. TJ showed up, and I fought down the urge to scream at him. After all, he was well respected, rich, and trusted. He was publicly known as Vy's closest friend, besides me. This was the last place I needed to be kicked out of, so I bowed my head and held my tongue. 

A suspect confessed to her brutal murder exactly two hours and forty-eight minutes after she was buried in the local cemetery. 

He was executed a week later, taking TJ's secrets, and mine, with him. 

TJ had appeared in my room again that night, pinning me to my bedsheets. He had whispered in my ear as I trembled, that he was going away for a few weeks.

He was gone in a minute and a half. The first vase of roses had appeared in my room the next day. 

  
  


Walking over to my bed, I buried my head in my hands. God, what had gone wrong? What had I done that meant that I deserved this?

All I wanted to do was bury myself in my covers, go to sleep, and never wake up. I was trapped in a neverending nightmare. 

I was just so, so, tired. Rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands, and stood up, walking towards my closet. God only knows why I kept the razor blades after eighteen. I guess as a 'just in case'. 

Either way, I needed to relieve some stress, and I had never had particularly healthy coping mechanisms. My shoulder still ached a little, and my hands were still sensitive, but that wasn't enough. I needed more blood, more pain. 

I had just reached my closet door and was about to turn the handle when I heard the front door slam. 

I checked the time. Two in the afternoon. Mom wouldn't be home yet, and neither would my baby brother. That could only mean one thing. 

Spinning around frantically to check my calendar, my heart sank like a stone. I hadn't been counting the days correctly since my oh so recent tragedy. 

"Shit." I swore. 

  
  
  


My father was home.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Frantically, I threw on a pink hoodie that had been lying on the floor since my father's last visit, and then I launched myself back onto my bed. Shit shit shit! I should have been ready! 

This was a time honored ritual for me, getting ready days before my father's visit, giving him strained smiles, and skirting around him as much as I could, lest he do something terrible. 

I had wished for pain only a moment ago, but not this kind.  _ Never  _ this kind. Mom should change the locks, he shouldn't be allowed in this house, he wasn't any part of this family anymore.

I thumbed through a dog eared copy of some children's book as I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs. 

Youth. Sweet, innocent youth. The first time my father had come home, I hadn't been prepared. I was wearing black, heavy makeup, and had scars on my arms. The perfect image of teenage rebellion. 

I'll never forget the looks he gave me when he thought I couldn't see, or the whispered phone conversations with his friends. I heard him masturbating in the bathroom down the hall, and I saw him stop in front of my door, his breathing laboured.

I pretended to be asleep. He moved on. The ritualistic preparing for his visits started the day after mom kicked him out again.

My door opened, and I didn't look up. My father stared at me. "Who are the roses from, Sel?" He asked in his usual gravelly voice, slurring the slightest bit.

"You're drunk." I replied, turning a page of the book. "Go sleep it off."

He chuckled, a sound that always unnerved me. "Well looky here, there's a note!" 

I looked up in mild alarm to his sneering face. "Don't touch that." I said, sharper than I intended to.

"I'll do whatever the hell I want." He replied, starting to read it. "Awe, you're boyfriend's off in England." He scorned me.

"He's not my boyfriend." I replied, my voice rising in alarm. 

"Sure looks like it. How old are you Sel?" He took slow, steady steps towards the end of my bed.

"T-twenty three." I hiccuped, scooting back against my headboard. 

"Perfect." He smiled, but it wasn't the kind of smile you'd ever want to see from your father. "Come here Sel." He climbed onto my bed.

I was not going to lie here and take this. I sprang up, running towards the door, until his hand caught my arm. He had moved faster than I thought he could. I had underestimated him. And now I was going to pay the price. 

He pinned me against the door. "Hold still, and this will all be easier."

His body pinned mine to the door, one hand capturing my wrists, as his other hand fumbled with his belt buckle. 

He pulled down his jeans to his knees, and then yanked mine down as well. "Relax Sel, and it will all be over soon."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a perfect example of how Sel and TJ still have a very non-consensual relationship.

"P-please." I begged softly. "Don't do this." 

He smirked at me. "And who's going to stop me? Your mother's not home, your brother's at school, your best friend is dead, and your boyfriend's in England. I'm going to do what I should have done the day you turned eighteen, and put you in your fucking place." 

His head whipped around as the bathroom door slammed against my bedroom wall. 

TJ stood there, absolutely  _ radiating  _ rage. He pushed up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. "I knew something was wrong when I came home to find your car in the driveway." He glowered at my father. "You have no right to touch her. I claimed her first."

My father laughed, scornful, letting me slide down my door and taking a step towards TJ. "And what are you going to do about it,  _ boy _ ?" 

He was dead before he even realized it, dead long before he hit the ground. 

Blood spattered across my face, the door, TJ's pristine shirt. He had pulled out his goddamn gun and shot my father straight through his forehead. 

The body hit the floor of my room, face still shocked at the appearance of the gun and unseeing eyes wide open. 

That's all my father was now. An empty body. 

TJ hummed softly as he sidestepped the corpse and made his way over to me. "A thank you would be nice." He murmured, brushing his thumb over my blood-splattered cheekbone. 

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. His eyes were soft and steely, reassuring, and yet uncaring, all at once. "Down on your knees." He said quietly, hooking my chin with two fingers so he could look into my face. 

"TJ. . ." I sounded tired, and my voice cracked. 

" _ Down on your knees. _ " TJ insisted, a little more firmly. "Come on Sel, are you going to be a good girl and thank me, or do we have to go through this again?" 

Defeated, I sank down onto my knees, looking up at him. "That's a good bitch." He looked back down at me, relishing his complete power. "You know what to do." 

I carefully pulled down his pants, exposing his already hard cock. Closing my eyes, I took him into my mouth, moving slowly up and down the shaft of it. 

I licked the underside of his cock, slowly working my way up to taking more of him, but, as always, he was impatient. He thrust hard into my mouth, almost knocking me off balance, and drew out before shoving his entire length down my throat. "I said thank me, not put me to sleep." He hissed, keeping up his rough thrusts as I gagged and choked. 

He shot his cum down my throat after a few more minutes of fucking it. "Swallow." 

I didn't dare disobey. 

"Now." His eyes glittered. "Before I hide the body, I'm going to take what belongs to me, and me alone."

He ripped my clothes from my body, and immediately thrust into me roughly, with no foreplay. After a few thrusts, he moaned. "Oh God Sel, you're still so tight." He gripped my shoulders, pushing me down so he was on top of me. "One day, you're pussy's not going to have anyone what to turn to. They are all temporary.  _ Everything  _ is temporary. I

_ I  _ am the only thing that is not. Everyone else will leave you." 

The 'or I'll kill them' was left unspoken between the two of us, empty words in the empty space between our bodies.

And I just sobbed on the floor and took it. Took the empty words and empty space, the dark promises, and the whole world's crumbling. 

Eventually, he came inside of me, and pulled out. "Goodnight Sel." He said quietly, brushing my hair back from my face as he picked me up and put me into bed. 

The last thing I saw before I fell asleep was TJ picking my father's body up off the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And. . . everyone still hates TJ, including me.
> 
> Please let me know if you liked this train wreck, and if I should continue beating this dead horse.
> 
> (Update: I changed the ending because I hated the old ending. It was rushed and out if character and just all around bad, so I changed it.)

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHH!!!
> 
> I said I would stop with this series. I lied. (Mostly to myself)


End file.
